time; my creditors are impatient, as if they were not sure of their money twenty times over. But what is this M. de la Motte writes me? You will not stay at our house, but are going to a hotel? My good Marie has pre pared a room for you, and she will be much disappointed if you go elsewhere." "I am gratified at your good news," re plied Madame de la Motte, coldly; " and as you say, it was time. M. Jolly has kindly engaged a room for me at a hotel in the Rue du Paon, and I must decline your polite invitation." "No, I will not permit it," cried Desrües. "You look ill and fatigued, and you will be much better cared for at my house." And in spite of herself, Madame de la Motte was absolutely forced into a carriage, and presently found herself installed in an apartment in Desrües's house in the Rue Beaubourg. Desrües knew the woman he had to deal with thoroughly; he knew her indolent dis position, and her inclination to avoid exertion of any kind, her horror of receiving visitors and of being disturbed. Upon his order perfect peace and quiet were established in the house; no one was allowed to intrude upon her, and every attention possible was exerted for her comfort. As a result, Madame de la Motte found herself so perfectly contented that she could scarcely bear to make the effort to write to her husband a few lines in which she re peated the assuring promises made by Desriias. M. de la Motte, however, wrote letter after letter, imploring his wife to conclude the transaction and return to Buisson-Soiief. Desrües replied to these letters more fre quently than Madame de la Motte. "Why does she not write me oftener?" demanded the husband. " It is now the 24th of January, and since the 1 6th of December I have received only four short notes from her. Ink must be dear in Paris!" Madame de la Motte wrote a short note in neply; Desrües, a long, cordial letter.
On the 25th of January, 1777, Madame de la Motte complained that she had been suf fering for several days from nausea and a headache. Her son also seemed to be far from well. The following days Madame de la Motte did not improve. She rarely left her room. On the 30th of January she was seized with violent vomitings. "You have eaten too much, dear lady," said Desrües, " and are suffering from indi gestion. I will myself compose a draught for you which will relieve you. You know I am something of a physician." Desrües went to the kitchen, and finding his little daughter there, he ordered her to go to bed; then he spent a full hour alone, preparing the medicine. The next morning he carried a cup, filled with the preparation, to Madame de la Motte's room. He then sent his wife and daughter from the house on some pretext devised to get them both away. Desrües remained alone with his patient. About six o'clock in the evening Madame Desrües returned. Some time later Bertin, who since the arrival of Madame de la Motte had been compelled to seek tem porary quarters outside the house, came in and inquired eagerly for news of the lady. "The medicine," replied Desrües, " has produced a most satisfactory effect. Our patient is sleeping peacefully. To-morrow she will be all right." The three talked together before the fire. At eight o'clock young La Motte arrived, and asked for his mother. "She is asleep," said Madame Desrües; "she ought not to be disturbed." The young man insisted upon seeing his mother. "Well," said Madame Desrües, "go into her chamber, but promise me not to awaken her." Young Ln Motte entered the room on tip toe, followed by Desrües, who placed his finger on his mouth, and shaded the candle
